


Keeping a Secret

by Satoru0829



Category: Loveless
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cutting, Depression, Hopeful Ending, Inferiority Complex, Kinda, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Self-Harm, Why Did I Write This?, slight romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satoru0829/pseuds/Satoru0829
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He could no longer remember when it started or for how long he had kept quiet. All he knew was that he still couldn't feel it, and that he felt bad about not telling anybody. At some point, he had quit bathing with Youji. It was annoying anyway, he told himself.</em>
</p>
<p>A few years into the future, Natsuo is not as fine as he would like to be ... but at some point, the entire hide-and-seek had to come to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping a Secret

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a terrible person, doing a fic with aged up characters just to have them endure this type of shit without causing a total breakdown to the logic. I might be sorry.
> 
> And just so you know, I wanted to insert more thoughts, but that didn't work, so I left this as it is.

_He could no longer remember when it started or for how long he had kept quiet. All he knew was that he still couldn't feel it, and that he felt bad about not telling anybody.  
_

_At some point, he had quit bathing with Youji. It was annoying anyway, he told himself._

 

So many years had passed with them as a team. They were Zero; the younger team of Zero that was by far not as good as their older "sisters". Natsuo knew that, and it was certainly his fault. He was the Fighter – he had to be strong. Stronger than he could be.

His long sleeves clung to his arms just a bit too much to be comfortable. But that was the case with everything he wore, and he knew why. Nobody else, it was just him.

Natsuo closed the book he had been reading and got up to take a shower. It must have been at least a year since he stopped bathing together with Youji. He didn't get the point in that, he told himself. It was just tiring; they weren't children anymore. Time to move on. Deep down in his heart though, Natsuo knew it was nothing but his own egoism that made him think like this.

The purple-haired boy sighed, tearing off his shirt. He was still as skinny as he was years ago. He should have been stronger by now, strong enough to make him and Youji the best team of all times.

It felt oddly safe to stand there in the bathroom, the door closed behind him. Like finally having a few moments of privacy, alone with his thoughts. (Although that was not necessarily a good thing.) At least, nobody was there to look at him.

But, as per usual, Natsuo himself had to look at his arm.

 

_It was covered in small scars - some longer, some shorter, some just barely visible and some that could be easily discovered._

_At some point, he had started wearing arm warmers to hide them. When someone asked about that, he waved it off with the argument of wanting to change his style a bit._

 

The Fighter easily admitted that he felt pathetic about it. After he had blinded himself, there had been so many years of him actually being as strong as he had to, and then the goddamn blade tempted him. Maybe "Fighter" was the description to fit him least, now. That was probably why Nagisa-sensei preferred everyone over him - he was weak. A little weakling, and nothing more.

Natsuo couldn't help but smile tiredly when he looked at the wounds. The newest ones were from the evening before, the oldest ones – he didn't know. But one thing was for sure; Nagisa would definitely hate him if she knew about this. Reason enough to keep it a secret.

Right at that moment, the door slammed open. "Natsuo! Do you know where-" Youji stopped mid-sentence, awkwardly standing in the doorframe. "Oops. Sorry, I guess?"

Natsuo stared at him like paralyzed. Shit... he had forgotten to lock the door. "W...would you mind getting out?," he asked in a tone that left no doubt he was serious.

"Duh, come on." Youji just grinned. He didn't change at all in the past few years. "It's not like we've never seen each other like this before!"

"That's nice to know, but I'm uncomfortable with it anyway. Now get out or..." Natsuo reached out, making a show of his attempt at throwing Youji out, but there was one thing he had forgotten about.

"Natsuo, were those marks always on your arm?," the mint-haired one asked. He caught his Fighter's wrist, tracing a finger over the scars. "Who ... did that to you?"

Natsuo bit his lip. So much about the secret. He stayed silent.

"Who did that?," Youji repeated, sounding more demanding now. Subconsciously or not, he applied more than just a light pressure to the wounds.

Natsuo immediately snatched his arm out of his Sacrifice's hands. Suddenly, he burst out with it. The words tumbling from his lips felt like the most simple thing he had ever said. "It was me. I was the one who did it."

Youji, all of a sudden understanding enough to not stare at his Fighter like _What the fuck has gone wrong with you_ , lowered his gaze. After a while, he asked, "...Can you feel it?"

Natsuo just shook his head. He couldn't. But there was still a little spark of hope – somewhere, buried under the entire load of misery – that he would at least succeed in that. Succeed in feeling the pain like everyone else did.

The purple-haired boy froze when he was pulled into a hug; a gentle embrace that he had not felt for ages.

"I'm sorry," Youji murmured against his ears. "Let's get you out of that. Together."

It took Natsuo a while to return the hug, whispering out a "yes" in spite of the doubt he was feeling. It seemed like a pleasant idea ... and maybe, just maybe, it would work.

Maybe the happiness from before would be back. For once, after a time he had lost track of, the little spark of hope that was almost gone started shining again. Weakly – but it was there.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I know depression can't be cured that easily and I didn't try to imply that everything will be fine within a few weeks. In fact, I tried to put some of my experience into this. (Although trying to describe what an inferiority complex feels like totally didn't work, I guess.) Oh well ... I hope that, maybe, you enjoyed this short thingy. Thanks for reading! ^^


End file.
